Losing A Son
by DeanCasLover22
Summary: "In that moment, he saw his own pain reflected back at him". How I think Sam and Cas's talk in 14x07 should have went, plus an added dialogue between Dean and Jack.


**Losing A Son**

* * *

Castiel was on his way out of the bunker to meet the shaman Ketch had recommended when he noticed Sam Winchester sitting alone at one of the tables in the common area.

This was not an unusual sight, Sam had spent many hours here after Dean had said yes to Michael, but it was odd that he had nothing open in front of him. Not a book, nor a laptop, or even his phone. Ever since the leadership role with the other world hunters had fallen onto Sam's shoulders, Castiel couldn't remember a time he had ever seen Sam just sitting at a table, starring into space, like he was now.

The sight compelled Castiel to approach him.

"Are you alright, Sam?" he asked.

His friend sucked in a breath. "Yeah, I'm okay."

He didn't glance in his direction, and Castiel found that odd too.

"Dean seems to be taking this…particularly hard," Castiel said.

Sam raised his head a bit, but still avoided eye contact. "Yeah, yeah. Yeah, he – he was pretty rough on Jack in the beginning. He blamed him for what went down with Lucifer. But he feels guilty about it now. The day out is his way of trying to make up for it. His way of coping."

Castiel could hear the emotion in his voice. "And how are you coping?"

Sam glanced around the room briefly and shook his head. "I uh, it's hard. We've lost a lot over the years but…"

Sam finally managed to look him in the eyes, and Castiel saw that they were filled to the rim with tears. In that moment, he saw his own pain reflected back at him.

Castiel had to glance down for a moment to gain back control of his own emotions before looking Sam back in the eyes, knowingly.

"But losing a son is different," he stated.

Sam nodded quickly and glanced away, clearly close to losing the little control he had left that kept him from sobbing.

Castiel, not knowing what else to say, only knowing nothing could make either one of them feel better in the moment, simply nodded in Sam's direction, and continued on his way out.

* * *

Dean Winchester sat on a large boulder overlooking a winding river with a fishing pole in his hand, but his mind was the farthest from fishing that it could be, and he spent more time glancing at the boy sitting a couple yards away from him fishing on another boulder than he did looking at the scenery.

There was something weighing on his mind. Something he'd wanted to say for a long time but had never managed to spit out. He still wasn't sure how to say it, but the longer they sat together, and the more they talked, Dean knew he had to. It was now or possibly never.

"Jack, I've been meaning to tell you something for a long time now," he began.

"It's okay Dean," Jack said knowingly.

"I didn't even say it yet," Dean protested.

"I have a hunch with how you've gone out of your way to make this day a good one," Jack told him.

"I still want to say it anyway," Dean said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I treated you at first. I blamed you for stuff that had happened before you were even born, and that wasn't fair."

Jack looked up at him. "It's alright, Dean. I understood. I feared myself as much as you did."

Dean shook his head. "That doesn't make it okay."

"It's in the past," Jack said simply. "Everything worked out in the end."

 _If you call this working out_ , Dean thought, but didn't say. He wanted to, but couldn't. It was too painful and felt too inappropriate to throw his bitterness out at the kid.

He had finally accepted Jack, came to deeply and honestly care about him like family, just in time for him to die.

It wasn't fair. Dean was used to being dealt all the crappy cards from the deck, but this was different. The kid shouldn't have to face this card, the crappiest of them all, so young.

He thought back to what Jack had said earlier. _"I had a good life, Dean."_

He was sure the kid had no idea what he was talking about. "Good" was the last word he'd use to describe their lives, but he took comfort in how sure Jack sounded as he looked around peacefully.

This kid, barely a year and a half old, had accepted his fate.

Dean wondered if he could ever do the same for himself.


End file.
